I love to swear

and I only know that because of how often ‘fucking’ autocorrects to

‘ducking.’

so my friends must think I have some kind of phobia of low hanging signs,

and dive-bombing birds,

and baseball games

because of that one time when the pot-fly came down on my leg.

and the vendors rushed poor little me with their food and concern

but it didn’t hurt

and I fucking hate cotton candy

but everyone must think I’m just afraid of it getting stuck in my hair.

or maybe that I really like mallards, and stifftails, and teals

but those are names I had to google because I don’t like ducks either.

they always shit where my shoes should go,

and I can’t even talk about the fucking ducks shitting everywhere

because they just wind up ducking.

ducking ducks ducking.